


As Well as the Whiskey

by hesterbyrde



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drinking, Eventual Smut, Forgiveness, M/M, Post Fall, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 01:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11910210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: Will slowly spun the glass in his fingers, listening to the fine crystal grumble as it scraped over the rough tabletop. Trust Hannibal to have a rustic cabin to hide away in that had both indoor plumbing and cut crystal whiskey tumblers. Just one probably cost more than all his fly fishing gear combined. Nevermind the liquid inside.He'd planned this. He'd planned all of this. Their escape. Their flight to this place. And then who knows what else.But Will knows he hadn't planned on going over the cliff. That had never entered his admittedly vast mind. In all the countless scenarios he'd spun out like a crafty little spider in the years of his incarceration, it obviously had never once occurred to him that Will might just end them both. It had stunned him into inept and uncharacteristic silence these last weeks. Will was by turns grateful and driven mad by it.





	As Well as the Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings all! This is the first chapter of what I hope will be a multi-chapter fic. I had originally only intended to do this as a one off for #ItsStillBeautiful but... well, you know how these things go. Before I knew it, the story grew legs and a few more chapters. But I still wanted to participate in the event. Please be patient for more chapters as I'm a slow writer and even slower editor.
> 
> This fic is unbeta-ed. If you catch grammar or spelling mistakes, please let me know. I'll be adding tags as I go, since much of the fic is still unwritten.
> 
> Enjoy! And come squee with me over on Tumblr at littlethingwithfeathers and drowningortolan.

"Sometimes the words don't flow quite as well as the whiskey." - @whiskeywrites

***

Will slowly spun the glass in his fingers, listening to the fine crystal grumble as it scraped over the rough tabletop. Trust Hannibal to have a rustic cabin to hide away in that had both indoor plumbing and cut crystal whiskey tumblers. Just one probably cost more than all his fly fishing gear combined. Nevermind the liquid inside. 

He'd planned this. He'd planned all of this. Their escape. Their flight to this place. And then who knows what else.

But Will knows he hadn't planned on going over the cliff. That had never entered his admittedly vast mind. In all the countless scenarios he'd spun out like a crafty little spider in the years of his incarceration, it obviously had never once occurred to him that Will might just end them both. It had stunned him into inept and uncharacteristic silence these last weeks. Will was by turns grateful and driven mad by it.

Will watched as Hannibal bustled about in the dim light, setting the kitchen to rights after dinner. It had been rabbit. Will knew that for a fact because he'd skinned it himself. Hannibal rarely made eye contact with Will now that they were both up and about. And even when they were healing, Hannibal spent no more time with him than was necessary. It seemed to Will that Hannibal would make himself disappear if he could.

Will looked down at the amber liquid that swirled in the glass, the facets throwing little shards of brassy light onto the table. He raised the glass to his nose. It was good whiskey. He'd had enough bad whiskey in his lifetime to tell that much at least.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asked, finally sick of just toying with the glass. "I'm still on a lot of pain killers."

"It's not as dangerous as many make it sound." came the reply, Hannibal's voice cool and clinical. For half a moment, Will could believe they were in an exam room, and he could practically feel the cold table and scratchy gown. "But one shouldn't make a habit of it."

"I'll keep that in mind." Will said before taking a generous swig, letting the vapors zing around in his nose. So much so that his eyes watered like he was a freshman having his first drink of trashcan punch at a frat party. Somehow he didn't want to enjoy this as much as the quality of the liquor should allow.

There was a smooth beat of silence, textured only with the soft clink of dishes being put away.

"Are you angry with me?" Will asked, clutching the whiskey glass as both a life raft and an excuse for being reckless.

Hannibal turned, but didn't lift his eyes. "I suppose I would ask you the same question."

Will felt a frown flicker across his face. "What? Why?"

"You did try to kill me." he did look up then, something unnamable swimming in his matte black gaze. "It would be a logical conclusion."

"Not just you." Will corrected, dropping his gaze back to the glass of whiskey between his palms. "I couldn't…" he broke off, his thoughts fragmenting into a thousand directions. I couldn't kill just you. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't let you get away. I couldn't…

Hannibal dried his hands on his apron, and cautiously approached, pulling out a chair for himself at the tiny table. The jaundiced light pouring down from the cheap lamp overhead made the shadows sink into Hannibal's chiseled face, hooding his eyes. "I admit your actions at the cliff have somewhat robbed me of my ability to give voice to my thoughts."

"I surprised you?"

Hannibal smiled, but there was no humor in it. "You never ceased to surprise me."

Will felt a prideful grin tickle at the corner of his mouth, but he suppressed it from being any more than a twitch. "You've never been easy to surprise." he said softly. "I couldn't…" he tried again, forcing his train of thought to stick to a single set of tracks at a time. "After we killed The Dragon, I couldn't fathom any path I could see. I couldn't let you go. Not after what you did to Molly and Walter. And I couldn't… I couldn't go back. Not after what we did… together."

"And you couldn't go with me." Hannibal supplied. "Yet again…"

Will nodded miserably and took another sip of the whiskey.

"So why are you still here? I have to ask." Hannibal said. "You're well enough to go if you like. I wouldn't stop you this time. You're probably well enough to kill me if you wanted. In a square fight, you would have the advantage as you fared better against the Dragon than I."

Will was still silent, inwardly choking on admissions he had yet to make even to himself. Finally he jerked his chin towards the kitchen, eyes still fixed on the tumbler in his hand. "If we're going to do this, go pour yourself a glass. And bring the bottle."

"And what is this-"

"Stop talking and just do what I say for once." he bit back, more tired than irritated.

He felt the record scratch in Hannibal's head as he pulled up short at the command. But after a long blink, he did as he was told. First fetching a glass for himself and the bottle, which Will took and poured for them both. Generously.

"Where am I supposed to go, Hannibal?" Will finally asked after another mouthful of whiskey.

Hannibal followed him before answering, taking the glass first to his nose and then to his lips. "Wherever you like."

"Wherever I like." Will bit back. "You're maddening, you know that? Wherever I like."

"I told you I would not stop you."

"You don't need to stop me." Will said spitefully over the rim of his whiskey before downing it and pouring himself another. "I'm not going anywhere. And I don't want to kill you."

"We are still dancing around the question of why."

"You've asked enough whys. How about I get in a few? Why don't you kill me? Or why don't you leave?" Will felt the anger and the whiskey flushing his face. "If I'm such a burden for you that you're trying to get rid of me, why don't you leave? It's your turn this time, isn't it?"

Will knew he'd done it then. He saw something livid flash in Hannibal's dark eyes. His upper lip curled into a feral snarl so quickly that but a blink and it would be missed. But his voice when he spoke still bore the calm of an empty cathedral. "I stay because I don't want to leave you. Not because I have nowhere to go." He answered, before finishing his own glass of whiskey. He didn't bother to refill it but rather sat forward to steeple his long fingers on the table. Will had to fight for all he was worth not to sit back in his chair. He still cut an imposing figure. Even with the bandages, and the cheap clothes.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Hannibal asked, his voice still placid. "That afternoon in Jack's office when you accused me of profiling you?"

Will swallowed hard against the knot rising up in his throat. "Yes." He bit off the word and chased it with a swallow of whiskey.

"I wasn't profiling you. But I was observing you." he said flatly, his anger making his accent cling to his words. "And do you want to know what single unrefutable fact I came away from that meeting with?"

Will shrugged in an attempt to regain his stoicism. 

"That you hated yourself." came the reply. "Jack had already told me about your gifts. Your talents. And your high level of education and experience. But I was not prepared in the slightest to encounter someone of such undisputed quality who was that full of self-loathing."

"Go me." Will replied sullenly.

"It broke my heart, Will." Hannibal said, sitting forward. "I spent a large part of my adult life working with patients who had all manner of neuroses and destructive tendencies. As a trauma surgeon, I saw countless suicide attempts and successes. But I've never encountered toxic loathing as caustic as what you bear for yourself. You were and are a singular individual capable of astounding things. I knew that without even meeting you. I don't know what I expected… but it wasn't that."

"You felt… bad for me?" Will's face pinched in a confused frown. "Everything I said and you felt bad for me?"

"I still do." Hannibal confirmed. "Will, you hate yourself with a passion I've never before witnessed, and if I could change nothing else, I would change that. I have spent the years of our acquaintance trying to teach you the brilliance and beauty of who you are. And I have failed."

"Yeah, because it always involved murder and harm to people I care about." Will shot back. "I'm sorry but I can't see past the ugliness of that."

"Except the Dragon."

Will sighed and took a sip of his whiskey. "Except the Dragon."

"I see that now. And I would take it back if I could." Hannibal said softly. "I didn't expect killing the Dragon with you to work as it did. It was a necessity of our situation."

Will did sit back in his chair now, scruffing a hand over his unshaven face and stunned into silence. He almost apologized, but he wasn't even sure what for. "So what now?" he settled for saying.

Hannibal reached for the bottle and poured them both another measure of whiskey. "We could start over, you and I."

"Like the past never happened?" Will fought the urge to sneer at Hannibal's sincerity.

"No. Just begin anew here. In this place." Hannibal suggested. "Let me try again to show you what I see when-"

"I'm not killing people." Will cut him off, his voice sharp.

"I never said I needed you to." Hannibal responded primly. "Not anymore. I see that now, at least."

Will mulled it over as he sloshed another mouthful of whiskey around, letting the fumes burn his nose and throat. "I want you to go into town tomorrow, and visit the bait and tackle store for fly tying gear and a pair of rods. I'm going to teach you to fish. We'll start there."

Even with the shadows gathered in the hollow parts of his face, Hannibal visibly brightened. 

Will caught himself mirroring the expression, dropping his eyes to the rough table top. "Don't get too excited. It's just a place to start."

Hannibal actually smiled then, for the first time since they'd killed the Dragon together. He raised his glass and gestured for Will to do the same. As they clinked the rims together with a resonant chime and Hannibal said, "A place to start is all I want."


End file.
